


Taking Care

by ChocolateAndRedbull



Series: Taking Care [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arthritis, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt Peter Parker, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Protective Tony Stark, Sick Character, Sick Peter, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, emeto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24288340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocolateAndRedbull/pseuds/ChocolateAndRedbull
Summary: Tony proves once again he knows how to look after his kid.OrWhen Tony comes home to find Peter holed up in his room in pain, he knows exactly how to help him.(That sounds like its slash it’s not I swear)
Relationships: Clint Barton & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Taking Care [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1814362
Comments: 11
Kudos: 221





	Taking Care

Tony knew that something was wrong the second he walked through the door to the penthouse.

He dropped his bag and stuck his head around the corner to the living room, noting its distinct lack of teenager. He looked up towards the top of the metal staircase to find the door to the kid’s bedroom closed and was soon fairly sure what was wrong.

He made his way up the stairs, shedding his jacket and hanging it on the banister before slowly pushing the door to the dark room open.

"You asleep?" he asked quietly, taking note of the quiet, soothing song playing softly.

Peter himself lay on his stomach, arms folded underneath his forehead with a large heating pack across his shoulders. Tony also took note of the wrist supports on both wrists and was fairly certain that if he were to check, both ankles would be bound in white elastic as well. He knew from both the sound of water shifting and from experience that there was a hot water bottle lain across his lower back. He tried not to wrinkle his nose at the overpowering smell of the prescribed muscle rub throughout the warm room.

Tony had known that Peter had had arthritis for a while now, known that it was never more than a slight pain, usually remedied with elastic supports and a hot shower. Tony had become used to seeing Peter wearing the over-the-counter wrist and ankle protectors, not bothering to comment because they would be gone in a couple of days.

However there would be times when he would get flair ups so bad that the teen, with an abnormally high pain tolerance as it was, would be incapacitated for up to 24 hours at a time, trying to sleep it off while simultaneously being kept awake by the stabbing pain through his joints.

Tony knew that the only way to get through this was to keep Peter relaxed and hydrated, knowing that the neck pain always gave him headaches.

Tony tried not to think about how there wasn't a moment in the day when Peter wasn't in some sort of pain.

Peter mumbled as Tony entered the room and although Tony didn't understand what he had said, he knew it was concerning the light from the doorway.

Tony quickly shut the door and crossed the room to the bed. "How long?" he asked, pressing his palm to the boy’s head, taking note of the slight fever.

"Couple of hours," Peter mumbled, "Shower didn't work, painkillers didn't work, muscle rub not working." Peter was talking to his pillow, unable to move his neck without a jolt of pain. Tony frowned at the deep, even breaths Peter took as he spoke, trying to focus on his words rather than the pain.

Tony quickly rolled up his shirt sleeves and grabbed the muscle rub from the bedside table. He gently pulled the now lukewarm heating pack from Peter’s shoulders and started to lightly massage Peter’s upper back, taking note of how tense his whole body was.

Peter didn't say anything as he continued the same soothing motion over and over until, with the help of the warm bedroom and the soothing music, Peter’s shoulders loosened and his breathing evened out, until Tony could hear him snoring softly.

Tony wiped his hands on a towel beside the bed and moved to sit on the couch in the corner of the room, praying that when he woke up, at least some of the pain would be gone.

When Tony woke up, he found Peter on his elbows and knees, breathing deeply. Tony watched as Peter’s eyes were screwed shut and his head was buried into the crook of his elbow. He took note of how he was constantly shifting, trying to find a position that wasn't painful, his body tense and chest heaving.

"Shhh, Pete, just relax. Relax and you'll be okay," Tony whispered, wanting desperately to hold him but knew that it would only cause the boy more pain.

Peter released some sort of half grunt-half sob before a thin stream of vomit fell from his lips, landing with a small splash on the sheets in front of him.

Tony knew not to touch him now, as much as his body was screaming comfort him. Tony knew that it wasn't unusual for Peter to get sick from the sheer pain, but it never got any easier to see him this way.

"Are you done?" Tony asked, voice low, frowning as Peter’s body twitched, muscles rock hard.

Peter’s hand moved towards his mouth as he shook his head. He forced out a sickly belch before quickly pulling his wrist support off and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Peter grunted despairingly before he retched again.

Tony quickly jumped from the couch and ran over to the side of the bed as he helped Peter sit back slowly, wincing as his joints popped and crackled. "Let's get you into the shower while I clean this up, huh, kid?" he said quietly. Peter slowly sat up as he rolled his shoulders, breathing deeply.

Tony knew what to do as he left Peter sitting there. He quickly made his way towards the bathroom where he turned on the hot water and pulled the small metal stool from the corner and placed it under the stream, knowing that he wouldn't be able to stand up for too long.

Tony quickly made his way back to the bedroom where Peter was still in the same position he had left him in, except for the small pool of vomit at his feet from when he tried to stand up himself. Tony quietly apologised as he swiftly picked him up, wincing as he cried out.

Tony walked quickly, wanting to get him into the shower as quickly as he could. He set Peter into the cubicle and let him hold onto his arm while he slowly lowered himself down onto the stool.

"I'll be back soon, kid, I'm just going to fix the bed," Tony said, closing the shower door.

Peter just breathed deeply and evenly as he sat, letting the hot water sooth his sore muscles.

Tony moved back to the bedroom where he swiftly cleaned up the vomit and changed the sheets. He then made his way downstairs where he reheated the heating pack and hot water bottle and placed them in the bedroom. Tony knocked on the bathroom door.

"Pete? You nearly done?" Tony received a small grunt in reply. He pushed the door open to find Peter sitting on the small stool in the shower, still wearing his shorts, rubbing his shoulders with his sore hands. Tony pulled the shower door back before he pulled his shirt sleeves up and grabbed the soap, pouring some into his hands. “Mr Stark, you don’t have to do this, I’ll be fine in a little bit,” Peter mumbled. Tony just laughed before he slowly rubbed the kid’s shoulder blades, just willing the pain away so he could finally get some rest. “Kid, don’t worry about it, I get how bad this is for you, anything to get you back in action.”

Peter didn't move until the water began to turn cold and Tony had massaged every joint in his body. "I'm okay, Mr Stark, I can go back to bed now," Peter muttered. 

"You sure?" Tony asked, stepping back to grab a towel. Peter gave a small nod as he grabbed onto the door and slowly stood up. Tony walked alongside him as he made his way back to the bedroom. Peter gently sat down on the bed and promptly curled up in a ball. Tony positioned the heating pack and hot water bottle around his shoulders and back.

Tony pressed a hand to the kid’s forehead, taking note of how the kid’s temperature had gone down significantly. “Feel better, kid.”

———

The next time Tony woke up, he frowned at the empty bed in front of him. He listened for sounds of movement throughout the penthouse and relaxed when he heard the toaster pop in the kitchen.

Tony stood up and stretched before descending the stairs, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with a yawn.

Peter sat hunched over the kitchen island, wrists and ankles still wrapped in white elastic, chewing idly on a piece of toast and reading something on his StarkPad, Clint sat across from him.

Tony blinked at the other man.

"What?" Clint mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

"Nothing... I just- when did you get here?"

Clint frowned.

"I've literally been here since you got home yesterday, you just went straight upstairs and I know not to disturb you when Pete gets bad so I left you to it."

Peter chuckled at Tony’s confused face. "You'd make a terrible guard dog, Mr Stark."

Tony made a face. "How're you feeling now, kid?" Tony muttered as he ruffled Peter’s hair.

"It still hurts but I can function at least," Peter said, leaning into the touch. "Thanks for taking care of me."


End file.
